


If It's Familiar

by PickledDeath



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Are Lame, But here I go..., I Promise John Will Be Legal Before Shit Gets Real, Love Triangles, M/M, On Hiatus, Underage Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-16
Updated: 2013-04-03
Packaged: 2017-11-16 11:31:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PickledDeath/pseuds/PickledDeath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave and John have been attached at the hip since the moment they met. So, despite the memories that John evinces of Dirk's long ago love, Dirk has always played the kind and patient big brother to his younger brother's boyfriend.</p><p>But, when Dave screws up and John comes to Dirk for comfort, Dirk finds himself hard pressed to resist his baser instincts. [On Hiatus]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, just in case you can't tell right away, this is all from Bro's point of view. Because, I love writing as Bro/Dirk.
> 
> Also, I apologize ahead of time for the summary. That is pretty much the most ham-fisted blunt way I could explain what this 'fic is going to be about but... * shrug * That's my third try at the summary and it's the best one so far.
> 
> Additionally! This is rated Teen now, but it will most likely gain tags and a higher rating as things get more serious. So, be sure to check the tags and rating and such.

If allowing angry midgets to remove your back molars with rusty forks would have allowed you to avoid the harrowing event that was moving across the country with a pissed off younger brother in toe, you would have done it. Unfortunately, the world is not the kind of place that is ready or willing to bargain with you. So, until that time comes, you were stuck in your junked out 1983 Cadillac Sedan de Ville with your little brother in the front seat and pretty much everything else that you owned in the backseat.  
  
Dave had not spoken to you since you had passed Boulder Colorado and you could not blame him. He was eleven years old and you were uprooting him completely from the life he had known since the moment your lazy ass mother had dropped him on your doorstep. You felt like it had not been very long since you first moved from California to Houston, but Dave had lived there all his life. You already felt bad enough making Dave move and his cold shoulder routine was not making you feel any better about it.  
  
If the web design job in Seattle was not so out of this world amazing, you would not even consider moving Dave so far away. But, the website just was not pulling the views it used too and the DJing jobs were getting few and far between. Not to mention that you had not sold one of your personally produced tracks in, well. Since farther back than you cared to remember.  
  
You struggled to keep the de Ville under your control as the rain continued to pelt the windshield. The 1983 Sedan de Ville was one of the last to be built with rear wheel drive. Most of the time, you were blessing your lucky stars for the reliable and cost efficient design. But, when the weather got rough, the rear propelled vehicles did not grip the road as well as you would have like. Having so much weight in the back definitely was not helping the old machine stay on the road.  
  
The heinous beats of some over hyped artist were screaming into Dave’s ears. You could hear it easily over the roar of the engine and the steady beating of the rain. He was not yet at the age where he could realize that popular does not always mean good. But, you were not about to fault him for it. Just subtly rag on him until he got the hint.  
  
Seattle was still a long ways away. You had decided to drive through the night and not make any stops to rest or sleep over at a hotel (your money wass stretched thin by the move as it was). You had already tried to encourage your little bro to put the seat back and try to get some rest, but he had stuck to his guns and ostensibly ignored your suggestion. You noticed his head is nodding and that it was not moving in time with his shitty music. He would probably fall asleep soon and you would be able to pull the buds from his ears and shut off his iPod to save the battery.  
  
Then, it would just be you, the de Ville, and the wide lonely expanse of highway between you and your new home.  
  


\-----

  
Neither you nor Dave had a lot of stuff. You had a lot to do between getting Dave registered at his new school and starting at your new job (it was still really hard for you to get into the habit of getting up at a reasonable hour and going to the same place every day). So, you were about elbow deep in fine puppet ass when Dave finally broke his vow of silence.  
  
“Hey, Bro,” a small sullen voice said from behind you.  
  
You turned around to greet Dave and noticed he had another boy with him. Dave was slouched against the doorframe with the kind of forced nonchalance that tipped you off that there was something making him especially uncomfortable about the situation. You supposed he would have to be nervous about his little friend meeting you. Dave had to have really liked this boy to invite him over so soon after meeting him.  
  
The boy with Dave was short, shorter than Dave. But, that wasn’t saying much, since Dave was already lanky and tall for his age. The boy had a mop of unruly black hair, square black glasses that were probably paid for in full by his dad’s insurance, and a gray t-shirt with a huge black graphic of a spade on it. He was smiling down at you in a toothy grin, his two front teeth standing out prominently in his mouth.  
  
You had spent far too long refining your reactions to allow yourself to gasp or show surprise at the boy’s appearance. But if it were not for the bright blue eyes behind the boy’s glasses, you would have sworn you had seen a ghost.  
  
“Hi, I’m John,” the dark haired boy said to you cheerily.  
  
To your credit, you only took a moment’s pause before smiling back at John and holding out your hand in greeting.  
  
“Hey, John,” you replied. “I’m Dirk, but you can call me Bro. Dave does,” you joked lightheartedly.  
  
John reached out to clasp your calloused hand in his own. His smaller fingers squeezed around your own and he gave your hand a firm shake. It was a very good well practiced hand shake that sent another pang of remembrance through your heart.  
  
The boy’s grin grew even wider, if possible, and you noticed Dave was sinking into himself a little. Well, at least you were filling all parental quotas in embarrassing your charge.  
  
“Nice to meet you, Di- Er, Bro,” John said happily.  
  
“Okay, okay!” Dave said hastily, pushing himself off of the doorframe and tugging John back toward the hall by his elbow. “Thanks, Bro. What are we having for dinner?” he asked, even as he started his retreat to his room.  
  
“Pizza,” you replied. “We always have pizza,” you continued drily.  
  
“Okay, cool. No pineapple!” Dave shouted just before his door closed soundly behind John and himself.  
  
Almost immediately, music began to play loudly followed by the sound of a fighting video-game starting up.  
  
If you weren’t already a seasoned Pro at this parenting thing, you would have sighed and thrown your hands in the air. But, you were a seasoned Pro at this parenting thing, so you do neither of these things.  
  
Instead, you rubbed absently at your chest as a dull throb began there. You could be mistaken, but that boy (John, your mind supplied) looked just like your old friend Jake English. He was a few shades paler and his eyes were the wrong color. His face was rounder and he was smaller, but he did look eerily similar to Jake. You wondered idly if Jake had any younger siblings. You thought he had talked about a niece or a younger sister or something, but your memory was foggy on that front.  
  
You continued to unpack your puppets and squirrel them away in inappropriate places for Dave to find later, but your heart just wasn’t in it anymore.  
  
You could hear Dave and John playing through the thin walls of your new apartment. John was laughing loudly and you could even hear Dave snort occasionally. They sounded happy and you were exceedingly glad that Dave has made a friend.  
  
But, seeing John’s face had started you down trains of thought you had not entertained for years and had hoped you had fully exhausted. You suppose you had not exhausted them.  
  
As much as you tried to squash the feelings and hopes that John had raised, you were unsuccessful. You could hear Jake’s laugh in your memories and even John’s laugh sounded the same.  
  
You ran a weary hand over your face and thought that maybe you should have stayed in Texas.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it took a little while. I'm still kind of going back and forth between working on my Sweep's Eve gift exchange and this. But! I definitely haven't forgotten about this fic.

You could not have picked a more different place than Houston Texas if you had tried. Where Houston was dry and hot, Seattle seemed to exist in a constant state of wet and cold. Texas had been full of hard conservative people, clinging desperately to tradition where they could, where Seattle’s population seemed to be hurtling so fast into the future that they were liable to snap their own neck. Everything in Seattle was painted in grays and deep blues and greens, a stark change from Texas’ pale browns and oranges.  
  
But, even with all the changes, Dave and yourself were survivors when it came down to it. The two of you quick adapted to life in Seattle.  
  
You settled into your new job easier than you had expected. Getting up and going to bed were still difficult, but all the other pieces fell right into place.  
  
You were endlessly amazed where a little work ethic and ingenuity could get you in the world. You suppose you used to know that when you were younger, but it had forgotten it while trying your best to get by with the least amount of effort.  
  
The company you started to work for is was a small software company that made niche software for car dealerships and real estate firms. Everything was web based and you found yourself constantly challenged by new disasters and challenges every day. You worked hard, fixed problems, and left the program running smoother and faster for it.  
  
Your co-workers tended to be either young and fresh out of college or middle aged progressive minded men and women. You got along well with them and they quickly came to rely on you. You were dependable and could be trusted to be capable and calm, so you quickly climbed up the corporate ladder.  
  
Dave seemed to settle into his new school well, much to your satisfaction. He didn’t mention Houston at all after settling in and sometimes that worried you. But, he brought his friend John over often. He even invited two different girls over (Rose and Jade, you believed). He seemed to be keeping active. You noticed that he updated his webcomic, Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff, regularly and was starting to experiment with music more and more on his blog. You sometimes wonder whether or not he will be grateful to have his growth chronicled so diligently online for everyone to see. When you’re feeling optimistic, you like to think so.  
  
Six months go by before you know it. Then a year. Then, three. Dave and yourself settle into your quiet Seattle life like a second skin.  
  
Once you fall into the rhythm of your new career, you find yourself with more time to yourself than you’re used too. Dave keeps himself busy with his friends and his hobbies. He’s clever enough that he keeps up with his grades without too much effort (he’s like yourself in that). You find yourself worrying about him less and less as time goes on. He’s a strong resourceful kid and never gives you any trouble.  
  
You start producing again, much to your own surprise. The music you produce is different from anything you had ever done before and it takes you a long time before you post anything. When you do, you post it under a different name to avoid attention from any of your old fans who might be lingering around.  
  
The tracks you produce are eerie sometimes, soft and dreamy some of the other times, and end up in trance or chillstep mixes most of the time. Not that you mind.  
  
Your tracks start to become popular again, but for once you don’t feel like wringing every red penny you can from your fans. You make the tracks free to download and keep as low of a profile as possible. You want to see if your music can sink or swim, without you using your personality to massage the masses like you did a few years ago.  
  
Overall, you were feeling a lot better about everything.  
  
But, things could never go smoothly forever. You got the first hint that things were starting to change a few months after Dave turned fourteen.  
  
It was a Friday night and you left work a little late to make sure everything you were working on was tied up before the weekend. You called Dave before you left and decided to stop off and get Chinese to bring home. Dave told you that John was staying over, so you ordered some extra food and some crab rangoon on the side.  
  
Your order was ready when you got there (the young man behind the counter casually explained that it had been uncharacteristically slow for a Friday). You were in your de Ville and on your way home before you knew it.  
  
You opened the door to your apartment quietly. You did everything quietly and it did not occur to you to try to make some noise as you came into the living room. But, the moment you saw Dave and John on the couch you wish it had.  
  
Dave and John were both laid out on the couch in front of the TV. They were laying on their sides, their knees tucked slightly forward. John was in front of Dave, his glasses slightly skewed by the armrest he wa leaning his head against. Dave was curled up against his back. His glasses were off and his red eyes were drooping shut. His face was tucked into the top of John’s head, his unruly black hair stirring slightly with each breath Dave took.  
  
They couldn’t have looked more comfortable and personal if they had tried.  
  
It said something about how relaxed both of them were that they didn’t notice you until you purposefully rustled the plastic bags you were holding and headed for the kitchen.  
  
Dave jumped about a foot in the air and immediately sat up straight. He shoved his glasses on his face hard enough that the nosepieces probably cut into the thin skin of his nose. John was startled by Dave’s sudden movement and tried to shake himself awake and pull himself up into a sitting position.  
  
“Dinner’s home!” you said from the kitchen.  
  
“Oh!” John exclaimed as he stood up and wandered into the kitchen. John has the warm smile that you had gotten used to seeing on his face. His cheek was red where it had been pressed against the armrest and he still looked half asleep. “I didn’t even hear you come in,” he yawned.  
  
Dave followed John in cautiously. Unlike John, Dave looked fully awake, alert, and on edge. You had not seen him so tense in a long time and regretted knowing you were the cause of it.  
  
“Oh, you got crab rangoon! That’s my favorite!” John exclaimed, rushing over to the kitchen table where you were putting out all the food.  
  
Dave didn’t talk during dinner, but John made up for it by chattering on about the movies they had watched, and what was going on at school, and what homework Rose had helped him with, and how Jade was going into Honors Biology. You smiled in all the right places and even snorted a few times. John was sweet in a way that you couldn’t remember ever being and you were glad that he was Dave’s friend.  
  
But, you would have to talk to Dave about what was happening on the couch when you came home.  
  
That was not a conversation you were looking forward too.  
  
Dinner was over too quickly and John was leaning back in his chair and patting his stomach affectionately. Dave was still poking at the pepper chicken on his plate petulantly when John gently asked if he was done. Dave took the hint and silently retreated to his room with John in toe.  
  
You were left alone in the kitchen with dirty dishes and the leftover Chinese food. You loaded the dishes into the sink on auto pilot and stored the leftovers in the fridge without much thought. You were already trying to think of what you wanted to say to Dave. But, for once in your life, you were at a loss. You knew what needed to be said and you knew what Dave would not want to hear. Finding the balance between the two was proving elusive.  
  
You let Dave finish out his weekend before you pounced.  
  
Dave was sitting in front of his computer as he usually did most evenings. You had never found it a challenge to enter Dave’s room while he was online. You relished scaring the living bejesus out of him and did so then. You tried your best to hold back a smile as Dave’s face stretched into a grimace and he jumped up and into his desk in surprise at finding you standing behind him.  
  
“Dave, I think it’s about time we had a talk,” you told him solemnly, holding perfectly still.  
  
Dave regarded you warily. You could tell that what you had said was throwing him off guard, but he didn’t want you to realize it.  
  
“Yeah?” he asked slowly.  
  
“About the birds and the bees,” you replied.  
  
The fact that Dave still believed he could flash step out of awkward conversations disappointed you a little. You thought you had taught him better and reviewed your parenting as you patiently dragged Dave back to his computer chair.  
  
“C’mon, Bro! I don’t want to have this talk with you,” Dave whined.  
  
You angled a lopsided grin in his direction as you crossed your arms in front of your chest.  
  
“Too bad,” you told him. “There comes a time in every young man’s life that he has to weather through an awkward conversation about sex with his significant guardian. That time is now.”  
  
“I’m not going to have sex with John, that’s so -”  
  
There was a moment during which an expression of abject horror flashed over Dave’s face as he realized what he had said. You never quite understood why, but ever since Dave had started to approach puberty, your presence seemed to fluster him in ways it hadn’t before. You never knew what to make of it, but at that moment you were chagrined to see it rear its ugly head again.  
  
You didn’t have to point out to Dave that you had never mentioned John’s name. Both you wished to be spared that embarrassment.  
  
“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” you said to him quietly.  
  
“If you trust me, then why are we even having this conversation?” Dave bit out.  
  
You were silent for a moment as you weighed your words for which one would have the most effect on Dave’s frantically beating heart.  
  
“I just want you to be careful. Strider’s have a reputation for broken hearts,” you replied.  
  
It was Dave’s turn to be quiet for a long moment after that.  
  
You don’t know how much Dave knew about your past. You were not one to keep mementos of days long past and the internet had not developed much in the way of social networking to document your days before you had Dave. But, you had always gotten the impression that he knew in some way, shape, or form about your romantic the romantic train wreck that was California..  
  
After a long moment of you staring at Dave and Dave staring at his shoes, Dave finally responded, “I know. I will be.”  
  
You released a breath that you hadn’t realized you had been holding.  
  
“Good,” you replied. “That’s all I needed. Thanks!” you said cheerily, before flash stepping backwards and out of Dave’s room. His door was pulled shut in the wake of the displacement of air you left in your wake.  
  
After reaching out and closing the door to your room behind you, you leaned heavily against the flimsy wood at your back. You wished you could have said more to Dave. You wished you could have imparted more of your concern to Dave. But, you didn’t want to stifle him. And, you didn’t want to burden him with your failure.  
  
It was better to let him try to find his own happiness.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Break ups suck. John, don't cry. * pap *

The months start to float by like dry leaves on a brisk breeze. Dave seems to age right before your eyes. You think that it might have been only a few weeks ago that he was a young sulky preteen and then suddenly he’s a surly sixteen year old.

Seattle still doesn’t really seem like home to you, but you get the impression that Dave has accepted it as such. John has pretty much become a fixture in your apartment so that you’re never surprised to find him camped on the couch beside your brother or wandering out of the bathroom at three in the morning. In fact, if the heavy lidded stares and the looks they share across the room are any indication, you only expect John to be around more in the future.

Dave was never one to be forthcoming about his personal life, let alone his love life. Any attempts you make to prod an update as to his romantic standing with John Egbert has only ended in slammed doors or rude attempts to abscond out windows (you’re on the third floor, for God’s sake). But, you’ve felt rather sure that from the composite data of obvious body language and late night groans and moans that things are pretty serious.

You’re getting ready to break out the extra key for John when all of a sudden it stops.

You feel terrible about it after the fact, but you don’t even notice that John hasn’t been over until a full week has passed. Your try to brush off the feeling of guilt. After all, you had been working long days recently and it isn’t unusual for John not to come over for two or three days in a row. But, when Friday rolls around and you come home with crab rangoon from the regular place and find there is no John there to eat it, you realized that you missed something big.

After a silent dinner, you followed Dave back to his bedroom and surreptitiously leaned against his doorframe with your arms folded across your chest. Your body language is combative, but your voice is as measured as you can make it. You mean to find out what happened.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, already resigned to a drawn out struggle for any small bits of information you might get.

“No,” Dave bit out, his sight trained on his computer screen with the kind of focus people usually only give a particularly terrible algebra problem.

You repressed a sigh. You didn’t expect the conversation to be easy.

“Did you tell John not come over anymore?” you asked quietly.

“Yes,” Dave snapped. His hands came up and hovered over his keyboard for a bare moment before his fingers began stabbing at the keys like an accusation.

“Did John do something wrong?” you asked.

Dave didn’t answer.

“Dave,” you said quietly, a warning. You didn’t mean to let this go without getting to the bottom of it.

“Yes. No. Does it matter? Seriously, Bro. Can you just leave?” Dave asked, and his voice cracks as he asked you to leave. His fingers slowed to a regretful stop. His head bowed slightly under your watchful gaze.

You teetered for a moment. You felt that if you pressed just a little more, Dave would break and you would get the information that you had so desperately sought. But, Dave was clinging to his pride. Whatever had happened he didn’t like to think about. It probably wasn’t the kind of thing that a simple. “Get over it and go talk to him” would fix. And, you didn’t want to make your little brother any more miserable than he already was.

“Okay,” you said simply before backing out Dave’s room and pulling the door shut behind you quietly.

You stalked back out to the living room and indulged in some pacing for a few moments before flopping back onto the falling down futon that you laughingly called a couch. Its stiff boards and beaten flat cushion did little to comfort your ass and back as you fell on to it.

You stared up at the crisp white ceiling and couldn’t help but to fret over your little brother. John was such a nice boy, kinder and more considerate than Jake ever was. You found it hard to believe that he would do anything to cause Dave to disinvite him from your apartment. But, at the same time, you were just as resistant to the idea of Dave doing anything so terrible as to cause John to stop coming over.

You rolled the issue over and over in your head, but there were too many possibilities and none of them seemed likely enough for you to pursue.

Mentally, you reminded yourself that Dave is sixteen (and you’re a death defying thirty). Dave was a full fledged teenager going through the thrills of dating within his own sex. You supposed it would have been too much to ask that puberty slide right by him without leaving a few nicks and bruises. That didn’t make you feel any better, but you knew that it is a rational conclusion.

You decided to leave Dave alone to deal with his own romance problems. You hoped that he knew that you were always a resource if he felt he really needed the help, but you couldn’t be sure. The little guy could be awfully proud sometimes.

You had no idea who he gets it from.

* * *

It was a few weeks before anything significant happened.

It was raining cats and dogs outside (not an unusual state of being for Seattle) when you were coming home from work one night. It was late, but not as late as some nights had been lately. You expected that Dave would still be up, but you weren’t sure he had eaten already.

While you were running up the stairs to your third floor apartment you almost knocked over someone just as quickly coming down them. You just barely grabbed the guy around the middle with one arm while you clutched the rail with your other hand.

“Hey, are you okay?” you asked. The guy was slightly smaller than you wearing a bright blue hoody that looked familiar, but you couldn’t place it. Of course, as soon as he jerked his head around to stare up at you with liquid blue eyes behind thick black frames you recognized him right away.

* * *

Before you really have a moment to work through all the thoughts running through your head, you find yourself hustling John in to a booth at a shitty pizza joint across the road from you apartment complex. The pizza there was never very good and all the other food on the oppressively substantial menu was equally lackluster. But, you were not there for the food.

John was hunched in on himself, looking ashamed of himself. You were caught between assuming that he had tried to visit Dave and that it had ended in disaster or believing that he had lost the nerve to knock and was horrified to be found out by you.

When the waiter came up to your booth, you ordered two sodas and waved him away impatiently. You hoped their service was as bad as their food and that the waiter didn’t come back for a while. You really didn’t want to have to buy something they made.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, feeling like your life was becoming an exercise in futility.

“No, not really, “John whispered to the scratched and worn out table top.

You sighed and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration.

“Did Dave do something wrong?” you asked. Some of your frustration must have leaked in to your tone, because John immediately looked up at you with guilt and regret written all over his face.

“What! No. No, Dave didn’t do anything wrong. I mean, maybe, sort of. No, no, it’s nobody’s fault. Or, it’s both our faults. I don’t know, “John babbled.

You regarded John quietly for a few seconds before the waiter returned with your sodas and asked what you wanted.

This time you indulged yourself and sighed wearily.

“Do you want anything?” you asked John.

He shook his head in the negative.

“Okay. Well. Then, the garlic knots. Or, whatever,” you said.

The waiter sniffed, jotted down what you assume was ‘Garlic dicks for the douche in the back booth’ and trotted back off to the kitchen.

You quietly regarded John for another few seconds while he quietly regarded the table before finally deciding to give the kid a break.

“Look, Dave has made it pretty clear that he doesn’t want to talk me about whatever happened. But, between you and I he’s been pretty mopey and if there’s anything I can do as his big bro to help, I want to do it,” you explained as matter of factly as you could before taking a deep drink of your soda. And, it was flat. God, this place sucked.

John fidgeted a little bit before turning those huge baby blues back on you. “You know that we’re, uh?” John struggled for words.

“Gay as cumquats for each other?” you finished for him, regarding him with a bored expression. It really wasn’t a fair statement to cumquats. But, some fruit are just awfully homosexual.

John blushed all the way from his ears to his nose and nodded before continuing. “Well, there’s that. But, um. I think maybe we’re both rethinking just how much we’re, uh, cumquats?”

“Oh,” you said shortly.

Well. That wasn’t on your list of things you thought they might have fought about.

“Well. I suppose that’s reasonable,” you said, hiding your expression in your flat soda for a moment while you processed that new information. Did Dave like a girl? Did John? Or, were they just getting cold feet now that it was coming down to finally determining their sexuality for sure? You could understand if one or both of them were nervous and how much that would throw off a relationship.

“May I ask if you got to visit Dave today?” you asked as casually as you could. You didn’t want to put John on the spot, but you could tell you already did from the way he looked away and how his face heated up.

“I, uh, I meant too. To talk about it some more. But, um. I guess I decided not too?” John ended lamely, laughing nervously. Except that his nervous laugh hiccuped and his eyes started to swim again, shining brightly in the harsh overhead light.

“Hey, John. It’s okay, kiddo. You know you can come over or not come over whenever you want. You’re never going to get in trouble for that,” you tried to assure him quickly.

John nodded his head hesitantly, his hands coming up to roughly rub at his eyes knocking his glasses off his face. They clattered onto the ugly fake wood table.

You hesitated for a moment before reaching across the table and pulling one of John’s hands away from his face and clutching it in both of yours.

“John, you know that Dave is still your friend,” you said solemnly. Your sure tone made John glance up at you with doubtful red eyes. “You two have been friends ever since Dave and I moved here. In fact, I’m pretty sure you were his first friend. Friends fight some times. Especially boyfriends. So, don’t worry about it so much. Everything will be okay.”

John smiled at you, and even if his smile wavered, and his cheeks were stained with tears, and the garlic knots tasted like garlic balls, you still felt better for having been able to comfort him just a little.

Before the two of you parted ways outside the pizza shop, you gave John your cell phone number and told him he could call or text you whenever he wanted. After all, you considered him your friend too.

But, secretly, you hoped he wouldn’t have too. You hoped the two of them would get their shit together and stop making each other miserable.


End file.
